15. Ori
15
ORI
Was I crazy to come back?
Or crazy to ever leave?
I hit the pool cue onto the ball with a hard, satisfying thwack, watching the last of the stripes sink into the corner pocket.
I gave Finn a challenging glance from across the pool table. He was stretching with his arms up above his head, his biceps on full display in his fitted white T-shirt. A few tables behind us, I noticed a woman staring at his back like she was ready to lick every inch of him, too.
Did he know what he was doing? How good he looked?
Was he aware he could have any woman he wanted in this whole state if he just said the word?
“You’re behind,” I told him, looking at the two solids still on the pool table. “Catch up.”
“Relax. I’ve beaten you before when I was further behind than this.”
“So show me,” I said.
We were tucked into one of the alcoves surrounded by shelves. I made my way around to his side, knowing that I could give him a quick kiss if no one was looking into the alcove. I caught his scent and instantly my body responded, like I was a drooling animal, remembering the prize I’d had last night.
But the moment I reached his side, about to slide my hand around his waist, he moved.
He stepped away, circling the table, eyeing his next shot.
Fuck, fuck, fuck .
Even the way he walked suddenly seemed sexy. I wasn’t supposed to be desperate for anything. I didn’t want to get used to this—to having him—if it wasn’t going to last. I knew Finn still wanted the Tennessee golden boy life, and I knew I didn’t fit into that.
But I couldn’t lie to myself.
I was craving him like a goddamn drug.
He lined up his shot, his arm making a clean line down toward the table. He took his shot, managing to sink one of the remaining solids.
“Lucky,” I said.
He glanced up at me from under his lashes and another image of him from last night flashed through my memory.
Last night it seemed like he had been the one begging for me. Now I felt like the roles were reversed, silently, even though neither of us had said it out loud.
“Hey there, cowboy,” a voice said from behind us, and when I turned I saw the beautiful blonde woman who’d been eyeing Finn before. “Nice shot.”
“Thank you kindly,” Finn said, giving her a nice smile.
“Play me next?” she asked. “I’ll buy you a drink.”
He paused for a moment, taking a chalk and freshening his cue. “I’m not one to say no to a drink,” he mused.
I glanced up to meet his eyes right away. “Fine with me,” I said.
Fine.
Good.
Get it over with, sooner rather than later. Maybe this woman is your future wife, and you can save me from the agony of wishing things were different.
“You sure, Ori?” Finn asked.
“If your friend wants another game, I won’t intrude,” the woman said.
“No, no,” I said. “He’s all yours.”
Lie.
He’s all mine.
But I felt like taking a step away might be good for me anyway. I needed a breather. I needed to remember what the hell I was doing in a Tennessee saloon with Finn in the first place, let alone drooling over his goddamn body.
“Very gracious of you,” the woman said. “I have to admit, I’m already a fan. I’ve watched a few of your videos online. My friend sent me one, and when I found out you lived in Bestens I couldn’t believe it.”
“You know my videos?” Finn asked, genuine surprise on his face. “I’ve never been recognized before.”
“Well, with that new one, you’re about to be even more famous,” she said. “It’s already at half a million views.”
“No chance,” Finn said.
“You haven’t seen? You should check your numbers more often, cowboy.”
Finn had a stupid grin on his face. He leaned down to finish our pool game and took his shot. He was distracted, though, and the shot missed entirely, his last ball bouncing off of the edge.
I leaned over and easily sunk the 8-ball, winning the game.
“Enjoy,” I said, handing off the cue to the woman right away.
“Good game, Ori,” Finn was saying, and I gave him a little wave as I walked off toward the bar.
“Have fun,” I said over my shoulder, not looking behind me. I heard the woman start flattering him some more, and by the time I got to the bar, my heart was pounding for no reason at all.
I sat down and Max and Kane came up to serve me right after.
“Want a mojito?” Max asked.
“Mojito? How come?”
“I’m trying out a new recipe for one,” he said. “It’s got cranberry cinnamon orange syrup in it.”
“Then that’s not a mojito, kid,” Kane told him, giving him a glance.
“How’d you get the idea for it?” I asked.
“The cat ghost knocked over the cinnamon in the back earlier today, so I decided to try making something with it,” Max said.
Kane rolled his eyes. “I knocked that over when I was carrying a box earlier. And I’m telling you, if there’s cinnamon in it, that’s not a mojito.”
“Well, it still has mint and rum in it,” Max protested.
“I’m telling you,” Kane said to me, “since I hired this guy, I’ve had the strangest cocktails that have ever graced the walls of this saloon. What was it last week? A hamburger martini?”
Max snorted. “Kane doesn’t appreciate innovation and creativity,” he said. “It was a ketchup martini.”
“Um, Max,” I said, “I’ve got to tell you, that sounds utterly fucking gross.”
“The weird thing is that it was actually not too bad,” Kane admitted. “But it sure as hell isn’t going on the menu.”
“The mojito tonight is good. Trust me. It has a little rosemary in it, too.”
Kane threw his arms up. “You may as well blend up a whole damn pine tree and pop it in there, too,” he said. “You’ve got every herb and spice and citrus in the kitchen in it.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Max said, already muddling and stirring my mojito. “This’ll be on the house. My own little experiment.”
I pulled in a long breath. “Good. I need another drink.”
I had to admit that even though saloons in general weren’t my vibe, Hard Spot… well, I had a soft spot for it now. Everyone who worked here was friendly or at the very least, entertaining.
And right now, Max and Kane were keeping me distracted, making it easier for me not to look back at Finn and his blonde bombshell over by the pool table.
Honestly, it was as if I’d been in a pressure cooker since the moment I woke up in Finn’s bed this morning.
Don’t get ahead of yourself.
This is all fun and games for Finn. A power dynamic. He’s having fun with the fact that he can get to you, in any way he can.
I had felt unwanted for so many years that it seemed impossible that Finn could want me at all, let alone want to be physically close with me. It was stupid to think anything could change that quickly since I moved back to town.
But… was it quick? Or had there been more under the surface for Finn all along? Had there been more under the surface for me, too?
It made my fucking head spin.
“Here you go,” Max said, putting a final garnish of mint leaves and rosemary on top of the fizzy red drink. He slid it across the wood bar top, a proud smile on his face.
“Cranberry mojito, eh?”
“Cranberry cinnamon orange,” he said. “Ah, with rosemary. And lime and mint, as usual. And a little vanilla.”
I puffed out a laugh, taking the everything-drink and bringing the straw to my lips.
First I was hit with the distinct taste of cranberry and citrus, but soon I felt the back end of cinnamon and vanilla, too. The rosemary was very subtle, and certainly didn’t make the drink taste like a pine tree.
“You know what?” I said. “It’s fucking delicious.”
Kane lifted an eyebrow as Max clapped his hands. “One-two thank you ,” he said. “Try it, boss.”
Kane begrudgingly picked up the other one Max had prepared, taking a sip. “Wow. Broken clock is right twice a day, huh? That is really good, Max.”
“This is the happiest night of my life,” Max said, beaming.
Ten minutes later I saw Finn in my peripheral vision. He was walking off down the hallway toward the bathroom, and I slid out of my chair, heading his way.
“Cowboy,” I called out, and he turned back to face me.
“Yes?”
I got up close to him, putting my finger in one of his belt loops.
“Kiss me,” I told him, close to his face.
Something burned in my chest.
“That’s what you want?” he asked, his hazel eyes looking down at me like I was his plaything.
“You know what I want.”
Inside I was smoldering, a volcano ready to blow.
I moved in to kiss him and his fingers came up between us, pressing gently on my mouth.
“Think we’ve been doing that a little too much to call this casual , don’t you think?”
I rolled my eyes, tugging on his belt loop. “Who fucking cares?”
“ You do,” he told me, lifting an eyebrow. “Now are you going to let me go take a piss?”
“Kiss me first.”
“Not going to do it.”
“Wanna fucking bet, Finn?” I told him, reaching to grab his ass with my free hand. “I’ll suck you off in the bathroom stall, right now.”
He bit his lip, keeping calm and composed.
“Nope,” he said simply. “Chill out. Don’t you want to hook up with someone else before you suck me off, anyway? Isn’t this a little too steady for you?”
I wanted to laugh, kiss him, and fight him all at once.
“Can’t tell if you’re a tease or a dickhead,” I said.
He leaned down and kissed my forehead with a little peck. He wrestled my fingers away from his belt loop and stepped back, heading down the hallway.
“Just having some fun, Ori,” he called back.
The bathroom door closed behind him and my heart felt like it was stretching out toward him, reaching and reaching, but not ever settling down.
Bad, bad, bad , I thought.
What the fuck was going on with me?
What did I want?
Usually I would have gotten off on the idea of another guy telling me to “go hook up with someone else.” I loved keeping things open and free, and it always sounded like fun to me.
But it felt different coming from Finn.
Everything felt different with him.
The idea of him hooking up with that woman tonight even pissed me off a little, too. I wanted to go home with him, fuck him senseless, then sit on the couch together, mindlessly watching baking shows with him.
I wanted him to play country music loud in the house, and sing along to it, serenading me.
For fuck’s sake, I even wanted to see him in that dumb cowboy hat.
My heart was tugged in too many directions. How was I so drawn to so many things that didn’t make sense for me?
The saloon. The diner. Bestens. All of Tennessee, really.
And Finn, too.
I went back to the bar, dropped some cash near my seat, and walked out into the night air. I took the long way back to Finn’s house, not knowing if I was ready to head home or not.
I walked in and set my keys down on the little table, looking all around.
All of Finn’s DIY projects. The wood shelves he was slowly putting up against one wall in the living room. The indoor herb garden. The bay window, which he’d been restaining this week.
I thought of my cold, modern little studio apartment back in LA, and how blank it had been in comparison. Hell, I’d barely had anything in my fridge sometimes other than condiments and a bottle of wine.
“ Fuck me,” I muttered, leaning against one wall in Finn’s living room, feeling the truth land on me, light as a feather.
I liked it here.
It did feel more like home than LA had.
And maybe I wasn’t crazy to feel that way.
An hour later, I padded into Finn’s room, took off my pants, and slid under his sheets. He still wasn’t home yet from the saloon, and I didn’t stop to let myself wonder if it was a bad idea to get in his bed.
I was on autopilot. And it smelled like him, in a way I was hopelessly addicted to, now.
I’d nodded off within ten minutes.
By the time Finn got back some time later, I was out. I only woke when he gently stepped through the doorway.
The nightstand light was still on. Finn looked goddamn angelic in the soft light, walking in and seeing me on the bed.
“Howdy,” he said softly.
“Hey,” I said back, still blinking awake.
“S’ok,” he murmured. “You can stay.”
I breathed deep. “You sure about that? Mr. Keep-it-casual? ”
He chuckled. “Just giving you what you want, Ori.”
My heart felt like it was orbiting around in wild circles, like a butterfly flitting around in the sun.
Maybe I do want casual, unless it’s with you .
Or maybe I’m crazy and losing it.
Maybe I just want to be next to you .
A few minutes later he got in bed next to me, and I smelled the minty-fresh scent of his toothpaste.
He reached up to turn off the light and then his arms landed around my body, pulling me in close.
Fuck, it felt too good.
Please don’t stop holding me like this .
“How was the blonde woman?” I murmured, feeling the warmth of Finn’s body pressed against my back and my ass.
“Very nice,” he said. “And very not my type.”
“Doubt it.”
“Didn’t hook up, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“You didn’t?”
“Of course not, Ori,” he murmured.
I paused for a moment, feeling the slow, even rise and fall of his chest on my back as he breathed.
“What’s your type, then?”
He squeezed me harder.
“I think you know the answer to that.”
His southern drawl had never sounded better.
I hoped I knew what he meant by that.
But for now, I kept it inside me, burning with curiosity, like I was staring at a gift I couldn’t open yet.